‘Oh, you did! Well, what else?’
Jack was writhing in the most unaccountable way, peering hither and thither out of the corners of his eyes, seeming to have an obstruction in his throat.
‘It was in a public-house as I sold it—a chap I know. There was another chap as I didn’t know standing just by—see? He kep’ looking at the medal, and he kep’ looking at me. When I went out the chap as I didn’t know followed behind me. I didn’t see him at first, but he come up with me just at the top of Rosoman Street—a red-haired chap, looked like a corster. “Hollo!” says he. “Hollo!” says I. “Got any more o’ them medals?” he says, in a quiet way like. “What do you want to know for?” I says—‘cos you see he was a bloke as I didn’t know nothing about, and there’s no good being over-free with your talk. He got me to walk on a bit with him, and kept talking. “You didn’t buy that nowhere,” he says, with a sort of wink. “What if I didn’t?” I says. “There’s no harm as I know.” Well, he kept on with his sort o’ winks, and then he says, “Got any queer to put round?”’
At this point Jack lowered his voice to a whisper and looked timorously towards the door.
‘You know what he meant, Bob?’
Bob nodded and became reflective.
‘Well, I didn’t say nothing,’ pursued Bartley, ‘but the chap stuck to me. “A fair price for a fair article,” he says. “You’ll always find me there of a Thursday night, if you’ve got any business going. Give me a look round,” he says. “It ain’t in my line,” I says. So he gave a grin like, and kep’ on talking. “If you want a four-half shiner,” he says, “you know where to come. Reasonable with them as is reasonable. Thursday night,” he says, and then he slung his hook round the corner.’
‘What’s a four-half shiner?’ inquired Bob, looking from under his eyebrows.
‘Well, I didn’t know myself, just then: but I’ve found out. It’s a public-house pewter—see?’
A flash of intelligence shot across Bob’s face.